


Intimacy

by DarthSuki



Series: Daft Punk (EDM) and You [4]
Category: Daft Punk, EDM
Genre: F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, M/M, Other, Robot Kink, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Shameless Smut, Vibrators, or at least one with female genitilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous: Omg, could you do cute robot with human sex where they’re trying to figure out what they’re doing so it’s kinda awkward and the human has to kind of talk them through it? That would be totally adorable!</p><p>Okay, probably not as awkward as it should have been, but every bit as fluffy and sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimacy

General

Name: y/n  
Eye Color: e/c  
Hair color: h/c  
Hair Length: h/l

Gender

Subject Pronoun (He/She/Ect): s/p  
Object Pronoun (Him/Her/Ect): o/p  
Possessive Pronoun (His/Hers/Theirs/Ect): p/p  
Possessive Adjective (His/Her/Their/Ect): p/a  
Reflexive pronoun (Himself/Herself/Ect): r/p

 

* * *

 

The clock reads late into the night, the second-hand clicking with each consequative moment in time, almost mimicking your heartbeat in everything but pace. Your chest throbs with the thrumming of your heart, the pounding deep, but loud, in your overarching sense of nervousness. You aren’t entirely sure why you feel so nervous about this whole thing, considering the fact that you and them had been talking about it quite adamantly for the past few weeks, but nevertheless your body decides that doing the impression of a young deer caught in the headlights of a car is the absolute best way to go. So you sit there on the bed, look completed with your wide e/c eyes staring quite intently at the door of the bedroom. You’re just waiting now.

Who are you waiting for? And why, pray tell, are you waiting in the first place?

It all started about two weeks or so back. You can actually recall the exact moment that the air had shifted, in fact, since it made your entire body thrum with a conbination of arousal and surprise to actually hear one of them say it than simply imaginging or fantasizing about it instead.

"We wish to make love to you, y/n." Thomas had said, blunt enough that one would have probably been less surprised to have heard it from Guy-Manuel, but soft enough to know that the taller silver robot was all nerves and no confidence about the statement. "Despite our lacking humanity, we….want to incorporate a sexual side to our relationship."

Perhaps it was the way he worded it. Maybe even, the sound of his voice in speaking did something to your heart, made it flutter about like some sort of struggling butterfly in a pool of emotions. You had fantasized about both of your bots inquiring about doing anything more than hugging and (attempted and half) kissing, but never once had you yourself the courage to ask them. Of course, it seemed that you weren’t going to have to any longer, Thomas’ words doing more than enough to your mind to render you aptly confused and interested all in that same second.

You had tried to ask for more detail on what he meant, but the bot had merely made a short series of beeps and ran off shortly afterward, leaving you to yourself to ponder on it’s meaning (which you still decide is just simple, but adorable embarassment). Things did get better over the following weeks afterwards, lots of talking and communication between the three of you leading up to this singular, nervous moment. But you’re going to be wonderful—-they’re going to be wonderful. None of you had left out the slightest detail for the encounter, making sure that everything was worked through down to seemingly the most awkward of knowledge that they needed to know not only about how to do it with you, but just to do it in general.

You figure it’s safe to call them both virgins, at least in the archaic sense of the word. But they seem far less innocent than what the word would lead you to have assumed, considering much of the conversation over the last two weeks.

"Do you enjoy spanking, y/n?" Thomas had asked over breakfast one morning. He didn’t respond when you nearly spit out your mouthful of milk and cornflakes, but merely continued on with another question. "You would not be against the action of me ‘going down on you’ correct? I understand not all humans enjoy oral sex."

That would have been a perfect summary of how the last two weeks had been for you, with both bots for the most part. Thomas had been particularly vocal about his questions and comments, but Guy-Manuel had been far less so. If anything, he decided to go about his curiosities in a slightly less-than-vocal manner, instead leaving you a variety of lingerie magazines whenever you woke up in the morning. At first you weren’t entirely sure what he wanted to achieve from it, but eventually you just got into the habit of looking through them and circling the particular pieces that you enjoy the most with their combinations of lace and color. Guy-Manuel would look through them afterwards (somehow—you don’t once recalling the ninja-like bot visibly taking the magazines back), and circle the ones he agreed with (which was almost all of them that you circled).

It became a semi-normal routine, in fact, as odd as it was. By the time he went from lingerie to leaving an adult toy magazine on your bedside table, you had little in your mind to be surprised about it. Of course, it did leave your cheeks an absolute flushed color of red to try going through the magazine, and it only made you hot and bothered to think about your bots using just about any of the featured toys and tidbits from the magazine on you (or you on them, if it manage to make any sense).

You did admittedly find yourself circling several of them. Guy-Manuel had sometime (and somehow) taken back the magazine over the last several days, and you had yet to find it again. Odd, and slightly arousing to give a bit of thought about.

Back in the present moment of course, all this had already happened and whirling through your head. Your nerves are frazzled, frayed and pulled to a point that you almost feel silly in your sittuation. Your body is nearly naked, clad only in the bits of lingerie that both you, Guy-Manuel and a third party (which you can only assume as being Thomas) had circled.

It was lazy, form-fitting and not too tight as it hugged your waist and chest. The panties, colored silver with golden trimming, sit low on your hips and somehow manage not to feel like they’re falling off most of the time, the bow sitting in the front several inches below your belly button. It clings to your ass in a manner that seems both fairly lewd as much as it is classy, though you perhaps wouldn’t have had so much excessive lace around the edges if you had a choice in the matter—nevertheless, they are wonderful, and perfectly matching to your bra to everything but the coloring (as it was golden with silver trimming). The unspoken but no less possessive gesture in itself was enough to make you blush.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the bed, blanket half-pulled around your shoulders. It can’t be more than five or so minutes, considering you looked at the clock on the dresser after getting out of the shower and getting into the shiny bits of lingerie. Now you just can’t look at anything besdie the door, and you don’t have half the needed will to actually get up and turn the clock at an angle so you can see the flashing red numbers anyway. So instead, you find yourself waiting, face red and hands grabbing to pull the blanket a little bit tighter around your shoulders.

You three talk about this. You agreed on this, you—

All your thoughts fall flat to silence when the door clicks, pulling open and flooding the bedroom (which you finally realize is particularly dark) with the light from the hallway. E/c eyes turn upward almost instantly in response, finding the doorway filled with the two forms of the bots. The image of a beating heart is easily noticable on both their visor and faceplate.

"Hello," Thomas is the first to speak, his tone low and humming, but not without a tinge of nerves pulling at each vowel. His attempt to be suave is obvious, but you don’t care all that much when he’s crossing his arms and leaning up against the doorway like that. "What have we here, Guy-Manuel?

"It looks like our human is wearing what we gave o/p," the golden bot responded with a beep. "Though, I’m pretty sure s/p’s been waiting for something else."

They both begin to saunter towards you, making your face flush and your eyes widen a little bit (oh god, oh god, oh god), nerves holding your hands steady from pulling the blanket off your body like the roman deity you had planned on feeling like.

Thomas’ first beside you , sitting down on the bed and touching a hand to your shoulder.

"I can only imagine what that is that s/p wants." He’s gently pulling the blanket off of you, revealing naked skin and the full detail of the lingerie clinging to your body. After a light, pleased beep of a sound, the silver bot merely caresses a hand over the line of your jaw. "Look at how pretty s/p is with that on, Guy."

"Quite," Guy-Man bluntly response, but not before moving towards the dresser to attend to something that you can’t entirely see with his body cutting off your sight of his hands. Thomas steals your attention back towards him, however, as he leans his face into the crook of your neck and presses the slit of his faceplate against your throat to simulate a kiss.

"You look so beautiful, y/n," he whispers. The bits of his vocal processors strain a little bit for that low and quiet of a tone, but you find yourself utterly enraptured by the way it comes out, perfectly husky and doing nothing short of making your entire form begin thrum with arousal. You shift your thighs apart, only for comfort when the angle is making them ache a little bit, but Thomas seems to take this as a gesture of invitation, as he slowly caresses the fingertips of one hand against the inside of one thigh. "It makes me wish to do all sorts of things to your body, seeing you wear our colors like that."

"W-what sort of things?" You try to play with, even if your voice isn’t nearly as level and sure as his. You open your thighs a bit wider apart.

"Dirty things," Thomas response in a manner that’s just too damn dramatic for you not to giggle. "Horribly dirty things, y/n, in a manner of ways that your adorable human mind probably cannot comprehend completely." His fingers play higher up your inner thigh, mere inches from your core. It makes your chest falter a bit in breathing, and he easily catches it.

"…this is alright?" The concern drips like water from his words. You smile and reassure Thomas with a nod, since words would only come out strewn and slayed apart. Oh yes, it’s more than alright. In fact, you want him to keep going. Forever.

"s/p’ll tell you if you go out of line, Thomas," Guy-Man remarks from the other side of the room. You can’t turn your head to look at him again with the way you’re angled, so instead it’s contenting to just let him do whatever the hell he’s doing, and focus insead on how Thomas’ fingers are getting dangerously (perfectly) close to the mess of hot nerves between your legs. Never touching, never getting too close—just teasing.

You groan in a bit of annoyance and push your hips forward, finally seeming to get a little contact with the very tips of the silver bot’s fingers gently brushing and pushing the top of your labia through the material of the metalic panties, almost perfectly against your clitoris. It’s not a lot of pressure, but enough to make you whimper and definitely make Thomas react out of his forced ‘cool bot’ routine.

His voice is mere static for a split second, processors probably trying to stay ahead of the situation so he didn’t seem as awkward or shy about it as you are, which you do appreciate endlessly. But Thomas catches his voice again, leaning his face to your ear and murmuring a soft and gentle,

"You are such a naughty thing, y/n." But at least his fingers don’t stray back to your thigh, and instead are pushing and rubbing perfect little circles around your clitoris. Your sex practically throbs at the touch, and a series of more whimpers pull themselves from your mouth. "You’ve wanted this so much, haven’t you? Been desiring my fingers to touch you like this?"

"Yes," You breath out, biting your bottom lip when you realize how desperate, how needy, how utterly /aroused/ you sound even to yourself. "I want it so much." A little extra assurance never hurts, especially when one is as skittish as Thomas—you can’t take the chance of him getting a little hesitant, even if Guy-Manuel was there to reassure him to continue if he did stop for some reason.

A little more pressure and soon enough you’re flopping onto your back, legs spread and wanting nothing more than to return the favor of the blessed pleasure coursing through your legs and belly.

"Thomas," A squeek drips from your lips. "Thomas, I—I want to do the same to you."

The bots fingers stop (oh no no no no), but only for a moment as he filters through your request. They start pushing and rubbing again (and oh god you’re getting wet already, just from his damn fingers), and finally he seems to come up with an adequate answer.

"As lovely as the wish is, I seem to lack the same sexual genitilia as y-"

"You know what s/p means," Guy-Man says from the other side of the room again. "You have the interface cords with you, right?"

"I—no, I forgot them in the other room." Thomas’ visor blinks red—his best attempt at a visual blush—before slowing his fingers down and leaning his faceplate to your lips. "I better go get them, then." You whine at the loss of pressure, but happily take the contact of his mouth-slit to your lips as a proper trade-off. Then he’s gone, the loss of extra weight making the bed shift to acomodate.

There’s only a few moments of empty silence and your sexual frustration before someone’s sitting on the opposite side of the bed. After opening your eyes and glancing downward, you’re happy to notice that Guy-Manuel is giving you one of those ‘see into your soul’ looks. The kind where he’s not doing anything in particular, no image or light flickering on his faceplate, but you just know that he’s looking directly at you in a manner so intimate that it almost makes you squirm.

"…You are very beautiful like this," He murmurs after a moment. You’re going to blush and deny the compliment—as you always do—but he has a hand on your stomach. "I often wonder how a human as lovely as yourself can find so much appeal in something that is decidedly not at all organic."

There’s something in his voice as he speaks. It’s low and soft, easily missable if one hasn’t become so acutely familiar with the shift in tone. But you have. It’s a little hard to move, timidness trying to keep you frozen on the bed, but you reach down and gently pull his hand up to your face. Lips press against each of his digits.

"You are perfect in every way," Comes your voice slowly after each kiss. "You and Thomas—I love both of you for everything that you are, not what you aren’t."

He beeps. It’s a low, soft noise that assures you he’s taken the words to heart. When you go to press your lips against his thumb, his hand manuvers around so it’s instead cupping your jaw, that very thumb caressing across the soft curve of your cheek.

"…I love you, y/n."

"I love you too," you giggle, smiling at the way his faceplate lights up with a heart.

The two of you remain like that for about a minute, until you finally have the mental reminder to ask Guy-Manuel a question that you had been holding for a short while. You don’t exactly have the will to sit yourself up completely, but at least you put enough effort into turning over, nuzzling and pushing your face into that warm, soft hand on your cheek.

"What were you doing over at the dresser?" It’s apparent he hadn’t stripped or put anything on in particular (at least, nothing you can see), and your curiosity is starting to rival your arousal by this point. He chuckles, and for a few seconds you’re pretty damn sure he’s actually not going to answer the question, but suddenly he’s moving his body over your own.

"So curious," he hums. "Do you really wish to know what I was retrieving, y/n?"

"I’m…not so sure anymore," You laugh, adjusting yourself comfortably beneath him. "Is it something as ‘horribly dirty’ as Thomas was talking about before?"

"Yes," The golden bot replies bluntly. "Very much so. Something I’m very sure you’ll be enjoying in a few moments." Oh. The indication of something so soon should make you feel a little nervous, a little on edge—but it doesn’t. Instead you find your eyes gazing down the length of his body, searching for whatever this mysterious item could possibly be that he’s refering to. You don’t have to wait for long, luckily (or not), because suddenly Guy-Manuel is reaching down beside your bodies and grabbing for something, and just as quickly a soft, low buzzing starts through the air of the room.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Though, you don’t exactly have time to make a witty (and timid) comment about it, because the golden bot shifts his body back so he’s sitting on your legs, and suddenly that buzzing isn’t beside you, but perfectly between your legs.

"Oh fuck!" You cry, feeling the bright, intense sensation vibrating against your clitoris. Even through the material of the panties, the sensation is so strong that you buck your hips up in instant response. Guy-Manuel isn’t moved or perturbed, his weight enough to keep him contently seated, but the smug little beep shows how much he’s enjoying it.

"So hot," he comments, rubbing the tip of the vibrator around your clit in a way that makes you buck again. "You’re so sensitive, y/n." The comment is short, blunt even, but it does more than enough to make you whimper.

"Guy," you moan. "Please." He’s barely pressing it against you, but you can feel the air practically shivering above your hot pussy. You want those panties off and you definitely, definitely want that toy closer. Bucking your hips doesn’t help all that much, because the golden bot is teasingly pulling the vibrator away every time you try to push your hips closer. Dammit.

"Not yet," he says after a while, still teasing you with the vibrator, just barely touching and going nearly as crazy with it’s buzzing as you are with your arousal. "Just wait, y/n. Thomas should be back soon."

"But that’s not fair," You half-moan, and entirely complain. You want to grab his wrist and pull it down, let your hips grind happily against the buzzing toy, but instead they’re fisted up in the sheets of the bed on either side of your body. "You can’t just pull out a vibrator and tease me like this."

"I don’t see why not," He says with a smug heart flickering over his faceplate again. "In fact, I’m certain I can do just about anything I want with you, y/n, and you’d love every second of it."

Oh. You keen needily at his words because it’s so entirely true. You’d be putty in their hands, absolute need and lust to their whims. The fact that your bots are so entirely intimate and suave with their sexual advances (Guy-Manuel, at least), is both very concerning and fucking hot as hell. Your core is throbbing and wet, and hell if the panties aren’t entirely ruined by this point, but you just want them off. Somewhere between all your whimpers and moans you voice this to the bot sitting on your legs. He makes a noise that you’d almost call the equivalent of a chuckle, then slowly removes himself from your limbs.

Just when you reach your hands down to curl your thumbs around the waistband of the panties, Guy-Man is already pushing them away and replacing them with his own, the vibrator abandoned just beside his knee and still buzzing on the sheets (you can feel it through the bed, oh god). It would have been a bit embarassing and uncomfortable in any other sittuation, feeling the wetness from the cloth lightly skim across your inner thigh as your robotic lover pulls them down and off your body, chucking it in some direction that Thomas will probably yell at him for later tonight.

"Can I assume the ammount of natural lubricant your bod is producing is a good indicator of your arousal?" he asks upon spreading and sitting between your thighs, happily returning to teasing the tip of the vibrator against your cunt after picking it back up. The casual tone of his voice is enough by itself to make you arch your back. He’s so sure, yet so unsure at the same time, and isn’t afraid to make his ignorance known without shame when he needs to confirm something with you.

"Yes yes yes," You confirm for him, bucking your hips when finally he doesn’t start pulling the toy away every time you grind up against it. "I’m so hot, Guy, I just—Oh god I want to come so badly."

"I know you do," he says, low and huskily. "You want to come with me playing with your perfect, wet pussy with this vibrator. Feels good, doesn’t it y/n? I can only assume that it is, the way you’re so lewdly grinding your pretty hips to get more of it. So perfect, so beautiful."

If you had to give an award so far for dirty talk, you’re pretty sure that the shorter of your two bots is definitely winning the round. But of course the contest isn’t over, because the moment he beeps and starts to say something further, Thomas is already fumbling in the room, thick lengthy cords wrapped around an arm. Though you’re not able to gaze with more than half-lidded, lust-clouded eyes, you easily note the way his visor practically lights up.

"Already started?" He inquires with a casual beep, as if on the topic of the weather or their daily maitinence.

"Obviously," Guy-Manuel quips in reply, pushing the vibrator even harder against the full length of your sex so you can feel the buzzing from your clit down to your entrance. You outright squeal in pleasure.

Thomas mades a buzzing noise and hurries himself over to the bed, sitting himself down just beside the length of your body.

"s/p’s quite enjoying r/p," he notes in an attempt to be casual, but god you can hear the way his voice warbles and buzzes, the vocalizer probaly having a hard time handling all the imagry and stimulation. "s/p looks as if s/p’s about to come." Oh he’s precious. Just precious. You want to reach your arms out and pull him in, ear the way his chest vibrates with each little blip and error in his vocals with his timidness, but instead all you can do is toss them up over your face and hope to god that Guy-Manuel doesn’t pull the vibrator away.

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease," your words tumble from trembling lips, body ablaze with passion and need and god they are there, right there watching all this happening over your face and body.

They beep between eachother for a few moments, and in that time you curse whoever thought it was a good idea to let them speak to eachother without you being able to hear it. You want to know what they’re saying, what they’re thinking, your humanity playing an oddly ironic and annoying role in everything. Luckily the exchange is short, and you look up only to see the last few beeps of light on eachother’s faceplate, and a quick tap of their faces together so a little spark of static electricity fizzles between them—their own intimate, electrical kiss.

And then suddenly there’s movement. There’s movement and motion and you’re barely able to keep up with it—all you now for sure is that the buzzing is gone and your pussy is throbbing and hot and you need them so much. You need their arms around you, their faces against yours, the heat of their body and the sounds of their intricate inner workings if only to pull you back down from the insanity that threatened to eat you up.

You have exactly that, soon enough. Thomas has replaced himself between your legs, and Guy-Manuel is sitting himself just behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and holding you up and against his chest, his ‘chin’ leaning down on the top of your head.

"y/n," Thomas says carefully as he idly hovers a hand on either of your thighs. "You did say that uh, you were alright with penetration?" The stutter in his voice makes you blink and look up at him curiously, having to sit up even more as Guy-Manuel starts fumbling with the interface cords for himself and his silver lover, fitting each end into the ports just on the back of their necks.

"Penetration?" You inquire with (thankfullly) your voice only half-wrecked. "I mean uh, yeah, that’s cool, but I don’t know what Guy did with that vibrator so-" You’re turning your face around as if to ask the bot where the hell he dropped it, but the movement is stopped by Thomas fumbling further.

"No I mean—well actually yes, penetration in general. But I don’t mean penetration by the sex toy," You turn back and look at him again, confusion taking place of a little bit of the arousal that was there, if only for a few moments as he fumbles to get his pants off—the rest of him is perfectly, beautifully naked already, the blackness of his outer covering not entirely muscular like a human, but enough that you can’t help but want to run your hands over it.

It isn’t until he’s sitting between your legs again that you notice why he’s being so hesitant and quiet with his mumbling. Oh. OH. Sweet jesus.

"I feel like I should ask about that," You say after a few moments, e/c gazing down at the artificial, but pretty damn anatomically-correct dick between his legs. "But at the same time, I feel like I shouldn’t."

"Probably for the best," Guy-Manuel states lightly, his head shifting above yours in a way that makes you think he’d be rolling his eyes if he had some. "It was very embarassing for some moreso than others."

"Shut up," Thomas huffs out, the sound robotic and airy. His visor flashes red and his hands return to your thighs, gently pressing the firm length of his cock against your wet core. "…we wanted to make sure we were as anatomically close to a human male as possible," He whispers fingers gently gripping your thighs.

The shock and surprise is practically swallowed by the arousal that floods through you. You bite your lip and mumble something along the lines of either a curse or a word for a deity (you’re not quite sure), but quickly push your hips and grind against his cock (which is surprisingly warm and firm and perfect oh god).

"Yes," is all you manage to say, shivering and bucking up against him. "Yes, yes please. Fuck me Thomas, I want—I want your cock." It’s a little strange on the tongue, seeming as you never really ever thought about your robot boyfriends actually going out and getting fitted with a dick before, but it’s lovely to hear yourself say at the same time.

Thomas makes a series of happy beeps, before gently pulling his hips back enough to line himself up with your entrance. You’re about to whine and beg for him to push inside, but suddenly Thomas’ face is next to your ear.

"We love you," They both whisper, and then he’s pushing inside of you, thick cock opening you up beautifully and it’s a damn shock you don’t come right then and there. You squeal out in the utter perfection of the sensation cascading through your body, and instantly reach your arms around Thomas’ neck.

"Fuck, oh god," Comes the curses from your lips, and then the bot’s hips are setting up a beautiful pace. His hips snap against your own, never too fast or too slow, but in a perfect rythym that allows you to feel the nuzzling of both bots against your shoulder and throat.

A symphony of beeps, trills and buzzes work around you three, a perfection of sound and sensation that never ceases and will never cease to amaze you with it’s wonder and intimacy. At one time you might have been unsure and worried that Guy-Manuel behind you wasn’t getting nearly enough attention in the hot mess of sex you three are wrapped up in, but the constant caress of the interface cord over your hip with each of Thomas’ thrusts remind you of their connection between eachother as their deep, primal connection to you. It’s beautiful because you can hear Guy behind you, trilling with every thrust, feeling it himself in a way that you can only fumble at understanding, but smile at nevertheless.

"Feels so good," Comes a gentle whisper, though for a moment you think it’s yourself, though the following buzz points the sound’s culprit as Guy-Manuel. He beeps and tightens his grip around your waist. "y/n, you feel so good, so tight around us. I think s/p’s actually going to come, Thomas, I suggest speeding up a little bit."

And Thomas does exactly what the shorter bot says, his hips snapping against yours even quicker, harder, making the bed start bumping into the wall with each sharp thrust. It’s a song of passion, and you want to record and play it back for yourself for the rest of all eternity.

Though your body doesn’t seem to think the same, orgasm starting to trickle through your belly and making your toes curl and your fingers scrabble just to caress and feel the bit of the interface cord sticking out of Thomas’ neck.

"Gonna come," you moan, and Thomas almost growls in response. "Gonna come on your cock, feels so good oh my god please, please Thomas, Guy-Manuel, I want to come!"

Thomas speeds up even more, and god the wall (the poor wall) is going to have a dent or something in it. You cry out and arch, not even able to part your lips entirely for the full sound of your arousal before Guy-Man’s fingers are curling around you, pressing those little perfect circles around your clit and making the damn of pleasure and need completely vaporize from all existence.

The cold and hot rush of pleasure flows through your loins, your legs, your belly and arms and chest and everywhere in between. It makes your mind blank out in to a white-hot pleasure you could never describe or trade for anything, feeling almost intertwined in the most intimate of ways with your lovers, entire being and soul practically entwined with their own.

You can barely make out the sounds of their own ‘orgasms’ around you, Thomas’ body shivering and his body glitching in both the lights on his screen and the sound of his half-gibberish growling from his poor vocalizer. Guy-Manuel is a little more contained behind you, fingers still rubbing and grinding down against your clit even as he finishes, systems finally making him and Thomas fall limp so their systems can reboot.

For the first few moments after your orgasms, you just lay there like a ball of fluff, feels, love and nerves so you can just wash in the after hormones of sex. But Thomas is a bit heavy, and after a minute or two you gently push a hand on his shoulder.

"Thomas," You say, chuckling and tilting your head to see if his systems have rebooted yet. "Thomas, you’re really heavy."

"Not as bad as Guy," he mutters, visor flickering red for a moment before the short word of LOADING moves across.

"Shut up," the bot says behind and beneath you, your head laying back on his chest. "We’re still conected. Don’t make me give you a virus."

"You wouldn’t dare," Thomas merely groans in his own assured reply. Of course the golden bot doesn’t, and instead the two of them sort their bodies out, one on either side of your own as you three lay happily on the bed.

They’re still connected, and you can feel the way the cord brushes against your belly with every shift of their bodies. It makes you giggle a bit, ticklish, but not once denying how much you enjoy that soft little reminder of how close, emotionally as much as physically, the three of you are. Within minutes both of them have fallen off into sleep mode, leaving you to look over at each with an expression of flushed happiness.

You love your dorks so, so much.


End file.
